The Upper Shire--Discovery of Lake Nyassa--Distressing exploration--Return
to Zambesi--Unpleasant visitors--Start for Sekeletu's Country in the
interior.
Our path followed the Shire above the cataracts, which is now a broad
deep river, with but little current. It expands in one place into a
lakelet, called Pamalombe, full of fine fish, and ten or twelve miles
long by five or six in breadth. Its banks are low, and a dense wall of
papyrus encircles it. On its western shore rises a range of hills
running north. On reaching the village of the chief Muana-Moesi, and
about a day's march distant from Nyassa, we were told that no lake had
ever been heard of there; that the River Shire stretched on as we saw it
now to a distance of "two months," and then came out from between
perpendicular rocks, which towered almost to the skies. Our men looked
blank at this piece of news, and said, "Let us go back to the ship, it is
of no use trying to find the lake." "We shall go and see those wonderful
rocks at any rate," said the Doctor. "And when you see them," replied
Masakasa, "you will just want to see something else. But there _is_ a
lake," rejoined Masakasa, "for all their denying it, for it is down in a
book." Masakasa, having unbounded faith in whatever was in a book, went
and scolded the natives for telling him an untruth. "There is a lake,"
said he, "for how could the white men know about it in a book if it did
not exist?" They then admitted that there was a lake a few miles off.
Subsequent inquiries make it probable that the story of the
"perpendicular rocks" may have had reference to a fissure, known to both
natives and Arabs, in the north-eastern portion of the lake. The walls
rise so high that the path along the bottom is said to be underground. It
is probably a crack similar to that which made the Victoria Falls, and
formed the Shire Valley.
The chief brought a small present of meal in the evening, and sat with us
for a few minutes. On leaving us he said that he wished we might sleep
well. Scarce had he gone, when a wild sad cry arose from the river,
followed by the shrieking of women. A crocodile had carried off his
principal wife, as she was bathing. The Makololo snatched up their arms,
and rushed to the bank, but it was too late, she was gone. The wailing
of the women continued all night, and next morning we met others coming
to the village to join in the general mourning. Their grief was
evidently heartfelt, as we saw the tears coursing down their cheeks. In
reporting this misfortune to his neighbours, Muana-Moesi said, "that
white men came to his village; washed themselves at the place where his
wife drew water and bathed; rubbed themselves with a white medicine
(soap); and his wife, having gone to bathe afterwards, was taken by a
crocodile; he did not know whether in consequence of the medicine used or
not." This we could not find fault with. On our return we were viewed
with awe, and all the men fled at our approach; the women remained; and
this elicited the remark from our men, "The women have the advantage of
men, in not needing to dread the spear." The practice of bathing, which
our first contact with Chinsunse's people led us to believe was unknown
to the natives, we afterwards found to be common in other parts of the
Manganja country.
We discovered Lake Nyassa a little before noon of the 16th September,
1859. Its southern end is in 14 degrees 25 minutes S. Lat., and 35
degrees 30 minutes E. Long. At this point the valley is about twelve
miles wide. There are hills on both sides of the lake, but the haze from
burning grass prevented us at the time from seeing far. A long time
after our return from Nyassa, we received a letter from Captain R. B.
Oldfield, R.N., then commanding H.M.S. "Lyra," with the information that
Dr. Roscher, an enterprising German who unfortunately lost his life in
his zeal for exploration, had also reached the Lake, but on the 19th
November following our discovery; and on his arrival had been informed by
the natives that a party of white men were at the southern extremity. On
comparing dates (16th September and 19th November) we were about two
months before Dr. Roscher.
It is not known where Dr. Roscher first saw its waters; as the exact
position of Nusseewa on the borders of the Lake, where he lived some
time, is unknown. He was three days north-east of Nusseewa, and on the
Arab road back to the usual crossing-place of the Rovuma, when he was
murdered. The murderers were seized by one of the chiefs, sent to
Zanzibar, and executed. He is said to have kept his discoveries to
himself, with the intention of publishing in Europe the whole at once, in
a splendid book of travels.
The chief of the village near the confluence of the Lake and River Shire,
an old man, called Mosauka, hearing that we were sitting under a tree,
came and kindly invited us to his village. He took us to a magnificent
banyan-tree, of which he seemed proud. The roots had been trained down
to the ground into the form of a gigantic arm-chair, without the seat.
Four of us slept in the space betwixt its arms. Mosauka brought us a
present of a goat and basket of meal "to comfort our hearts." He told us
that a large slave party, led by Arabs, were encamped close by. They had
been up to Cazembe's country the past year, and were on their way back,
with plenty of slaves, ivory, and malachite. In a few minutes half a
dozen of the leaders came over to see us. They were armed with long
muskets, and, to our mind, were a villanous-looking lot. They evidently
thought the same of us, for they offered several young children for sale,
but, when told that we were English, showed signs of fear, and decamped
during the night. On our return to the Kongone, we found that H.M.S.
"Lynx" had caught some of these very slaves in a dhow; for a woman told
us she first saw us at Mosauka's, and that the Arabs had fled for fear of
an _uncanny_ sort of Basungu.
This is one of the great slave-paths from the interior, others cross the
Shire a little below, and some on the lake itself. We might have
released these slaves but did not know what to do with them afterwards.
On meeting men, led in slave-sticks, the Doctor had to bear the
reproaches of the Makololo, who never slave, "Ay, you call us bad, but
are we yellow-hearted, like these fellows--why won't you let us choke
them?" To liberate and leave them, would have done but little good, as
the people of the surrounding villages would soon have seized them, and
have sold them again into slavery. The Manganja chiefs sell their own
people, for we met Ajawa and slave-dealers in several highland villages,
who had certainly been encouraged to come among them for slaves. The
chiefs always seemed ashamed of the traffic, and tried to excuse
themselves. "We do not sell many, and only those who have committed
crimes." As a rule the regular trade is supplied by the low and criminal
classes, and hence the ugliness of slaves. Others are probably sold
besides criminals, as on the accusation of witchcraft. Friendless
orphans also sometimes disappear suddenly, and no one inquires what has
become of them. The temptation to sell their people is peculiarly great,
as there is but little ivory on the hills, and often the chief has
nothing but human flesh with which to buy foreign goods. The Ajawa offer
cloth, brass rings, pottery, and sometimes handsome young women, and
agree to take the trouble of carrying off by night all those whom the
chief may point out to them. They give four yards of cotton cloth for a
man, three for a woman, and two for a boy or girl, to be taken to the
Portuguese at Mozambique, Iboe, and Quillimane.
The Manganja were more suspicious and less hospitable than the tribes on
the Zambesi. They were slow to believe that our object in coming into
their country was really what we professed it to be. They naturally
judge us by the motives which govern themselves. A chief in the Upper
Shire Valley, whose scared looks led our men to christen him Kitlabolawa
(I shall be killed), remarked that parties had come before, with as
plausible a story as ours, and, after a few days, had jumped up and
carried off a number of his people as slaves. We were not allowed to
enter some of the villages in the valley, nor would the inhabitants even
sell us food; Zimika's men, for instance, stood at the entrance of the
euphorbia hedge, and declared we should not pass in. We sat down under a
tree close by. A young fellow made an angry oration, dancing from side
to side with his bow and poisoned arrows, and gesticulating fiercely in
our faces. He was stopped in the middle of his harangue by an old man,
who ordered him to sit down, and not talk to strangers in that way; he
obeyed reluctantly, scowling defiance, and thrusting out his large lips
very significantly. The women were observed leaving the village; and,
suspecting that mischief might ensue, we proceeded on our journey, to the
great disgust of our men. They were very angry with the natives for
their want of hospitality to strangers, and with us, because we would not
allow them to give "the things a thrashing." "This is what comes of
going with white men," they growled out; "had we been with our own chief,
we should have eaten their goats to-night, and had some of themselves to
carry the bundles for us to-morrow." On our return by a path which left
his village on our right, Zimika sent to apologize, saying that "he was
ill, and in another village at the time; it was not by his orders we were
sent away; his men did not know that we were a party wishing the land to
dwell in peace."
We were not able, when hastening back to the men left in the ship, to
remain in the villages belonging to this chief; but the people came after
us with things for sale, and invited us to stop, and spend the night with
them, urging, "Are we to have it said that white people passed through
our country and we did not see them?" We rested by a rivulet to gratify
these sight-seers. We appear to them to be red rather than white; and,
though light colour is admired among themselves, our clothing renders us
uncouth in aspect. Blue eyes appear savage, and a red beard hideous.
From the numbers of aged persons we saw on the highlands, and the
increase of mental and physical vigour we experienced on our ascent from
the lowlands, we inferred that the climate was salubrious, and that our
countrymen might there enjoy good health, and also be of signal benefit,
by leading the multitude of industrious inhabitants to cultivate cotton,
buaze, sugar, and other valuable produce, to exchange for goods of
European manufacture; at the same time teaching them, by precept and
example, the great truths of our Holy Religion.
Our stay at the Lake was necessarily short. We had found that the best
plan for allaying any suspicions, that might arise in the minds of a
people accustomed only to slave-traders, was to pay a hasty visit, and
then leave for a while, and allow the conviction to form among the people
that, though our course of action was so different from that of others,
we were not dangerous, but rather disposed to be friendly. We had also a
party at the vessel, and any indiscretion on their part might have proved
fatal to the character of the Expedition.
The trade of Cazembe and Katanga's country, and of other parts of the
interior, crosses Nyassa and the Shire, on its way to the Arab port,
Kilwa, and the Portuguese ports of Iboe and Mozambique. At present,
slaves, ivory, malachite, and copper ornaments, are the only articles of
commerce. According to information collected by Colonel Rigby at
Zanzibar, and from other sources, nearly all the slaves shipped from the
above-mentioned ports come from the Nyassa district. By means of a small
steamer, purchasing the ivory of the Lake and River above the cataracts,
which together have a shore-line of at least 600 miles, the slave-trade
in this quarter would be rendered unprofitable,--for it is only by the
ivory being carried by the slaves, that the latter do not eat up all the
profits of a trip. An influence would be exerted over an enormous area
of country, for the Mazitu about the north end of the Lake will not allow
slave-traders to pass round that way through their country. They would
be most efficient allies to the English, and might themselves be
benefited by more intercourse. As things are now, the native traders in
ivory and malachite have to submit to heavy exactions; and if we could
give them the same prices which they at present get after carrying their
merchandise 300 miles beyond this to the Coast, it might induce them to
return without going further. It is only by cutting off the supplies in
the interior, that we can crush the slave-trade on the Coast. The plan
proposed would stop the slave-trade from the Zambesi on one side and
Kilwa on the other; and would leave, beyond this tract, only the
Portuguese port of Inhambane on the south, and a portion of the Sultan of
Zanzibar's dominion on the north, for our cruisers to look after. The
Lake people grow abundance of cotton for their own consumption, and can
sell it for a penny a pound or even less. Water-carriage exists by the
Shire and Zambesi all the way to England, with the single exception of a
portage of about thirty-five miles past the Murchison Cataracts, along
which a road of less than forty miles could be made at a trifling
expense; and it seems feasible that a legitimate and thriving trade
might, in a short time, take the place of the present unlawful traffic.
Colonel Rigby, Captains Wilson, Oldfield, and Chapman, and all the most
intelligent officers on the Coast, were unanimous in the belief, that one
small vessel on the Lake would have decidedly more influence, and do more
good in suppressing the slave-trade, than half a dozen men-of-war on the
ocean. By judicious operations, therefore, on a small scale inland,
little expense would be incurred, and the English slave-trade policy on
the East would have the same fair chance of success, as on the West
Coast.
After a land-journey of forty days, we returned to the ship on the 6th of
October, 1859, in a somewhat exhausted condition, arising more from a
sort of poisoning, than from the usual fatigue of travel. We had taken a
little mulligatawney paste, for making soup, in case of want of time to
cook other food. Late one afternoon, at the end of an unusually long
march, we reached Mikena, near the base of Mount Njongone to the north of
Zomba, and the cook was directed to use a couple of spoonfuls of the
paste; but, instead of doing so, he put in the whole potful. The soup
tasted rather hot, but we added boiled rice to it, and, being very
hungry, partook freely of it; and, in consequence of the overdose, we
were delayed several days in severe suffering, and some of the party did
not recover till after our return to the ship. Our illness may partly
have arisen from another cause. One kind of cassava (_Jatropha maligna_)
is known to be, in its raw state, poisonous, but by boiling it carefully
in two waters, which must be thrown off, the poison is extracted and the
cassava rendered fit for food. The poisonous sort is easily known by
raising a bit of the bark of the root, and putting the tongue to it. A
bitter taste shows poison, but it is probable that even the sweet kind
contains an injurious principle. The sap, which, like that of our
potatoes, is injurious as an article of food, is used in the "Pepper-pot"
of the West Indies, under the name of "Cassereep," as a perfect
preservative of meat. This juice put into an earthen vessel with a
little water and Chili pepper is said to keep meat, that is immersed in
it, good for a great length of time; even for years. No iron or steel
must touch the mixture, or it will become sour. This "Pepper-pot," of
which we first heard from the late Archbishop Whately, is a most
economical meat-safe in a hot climate; any beef, mutton, pork, or fowl
that may be left at dinner, if put into the mixture and a little fresh
cassereep added, keeps perfectly, though otherwise the heat of the
climate or flies would spoil it. Our cook, however, boiled the cassava
root as he was in the habit of cooking meat, namely, by filling the pot
with it, and then pouring in water, which he allowed to stand on the fire
until it had become absorbed and boiled away. This method did not expel
the poisonous properties of the root, or render it wholesome; for,
notwithstanding our systematic caution in purchasing only the harmless
sort, we suffered daily from its effects, and it was only just before the
end of our trip that this pernicious mode of boiling it was discovered by
us.
In ascending 3000 feet from the lowlands to the highlands, or on reaching
the low valley of the Shire from the higher grounds, the change of
climate was very marked. The heat was oppressive below, the thermometer
standing at from 84 degrees to 103 degrees in the shade; and our spirits
were as dull and languid as they had been exhilarated on the heights in a
temperature cooler by some 20 degrees. The water of the river was
sometimes 84 degrees or higher, whilst that we had been drinking in the
hill streams was only 65 degrees.
It was found necessary to send two of our number across from the Shire to
Tette; and Dr. Kirk, with guides from Chibisa, and accompanied by Mr.
Rae, the engineer, accomplished the journey. We had found the country to
the north and east so very well watered, that no difficulty was
anticipated in this respect in a march of less than a hundred miles; but
on this occasion our friends suffered severely. The little water to be
had at this time of the year, by digging in the beds of dry watercourses,
was so brackish as to increase thirst--some of the natives indeed were
making salt from it; and when at long intervals a less brackish supply
was found, it was nauseous and muddy from the frequent visits of large
game. The tsetse abounded. The country was level, and large tracts of
it covered with mopane forest, the leaves of which afford but scanty
shade to the baked earth, so that scarcely any grass grows upon it. The
sun was so hot, that the men frequently jumped from the path, in the vain
hope of cooling, for a moment, their scorched feet under the almost
shadeless bushes; and the native who carried the provision of salt pork
got lost, and came into Tette two days after the rest of the party, with
nothing but the fibre of the meat left, the fat, melted by the blazing
sun, having all run down his back. This path was soon made a highway for
slaving parties by Captain Raposo, the Commandant. The journey nearly
killed our two active young friends; and what the slaves must have since
suffered on it no one can conceive; but slaving probably can never be
conducted without enormous suffering and loss of life.
Mankokwe now sent a message to say that he wished us to stop at his
village on our way down. He came on board on our arrival there with a
handsome present, and said that his young people had dissuaded him from
visiting us before; but now he was determined to see what every one else
was seeing. A bald square-headed man, who had been his Prime Minister
when we came up, was now out of office, and another old man, who had
taken his place accompanied the chief. In passing the Elephant Marsh, we
saw nine large herds of elephants; they sometimes formed a line two miles
long.
On the 2nd of November we anchored off Shamoara, and sent the boat to
Senna for biscuit and other provisions. Senhor Ferrao, with his wonted
generosity, gave us a present of a bullock, which he sent to us in a
canoe. Wishing to know if a second bullock would be acceptable to us, he
consulted his Portuguese and English dictionary, and asked the sailor in
charge if he would take _another_; but Jack, mistaking the Portuguese
pronunciation of the letter h, replied, "Oh no, sir, thank you, I don't
want an _otter_ in the boat, they are such terrible biters!"
We had to ground the vessel on a shallow sandbank every night; she leaked
so fast, that in deep water she would have sunk, and the pump had to be
worked all day to keep her afloat. Heavy rains fell daily, producing the
usual injurious effects in the cabin; and, unable to wait any longer for
our associates, who had gone overland from the Shire to Tette, we ran
down the Kongone and beached her for repairs. Her Majesty's ship "Lynx,"
Lieut. Berkeley commanding, called shortly afterwards with supplies; the
bar, which had been perfectly smooth for some time before, became rather
rough just before her arrival, so that it was two or three days before
she could communicate with us. Two of her boats tried to come in on the
second day, and one of them, mistaking the passage, capsized in the heavy
breakers abreast of the island. Mr. Hunt, gunner, the officer in charge
of the second boat, behaved nobly, and by his skilful and gallant conduct
succeeded in rescuing every one of the first boat's crew. Of course the
things that they were bringing to us were lost, but we were thankful that
all the men were saved. The loss of the mail-bags, containing Government
despatches and our friends' letters for the past year, was felt severely,
as we were on the point of starting on an expedition into the interior,
which might require eight or nine months; and twenty months is a weary
time to be without news of friends and family. In the repairing of our
crazy craft, we received kind and efficient aid from Lieutenant Berkeley,
and we were enabled to leave for Tette on December 16th.
We had now frequent rains, and the river rose considerably; our progress
up the stream was distressingly slow, and it was not until the 2nd of
February, 1860, that we reached Tette. Mr. Thornton returned on the same
day from a geological tour, by which some Portuguese expected that a
fabulous silver-mine would be rediscovered. The tradition in the country
is, that the Jesuits formerly knew and worked a precious lode at Chicova.
Mr. Thornton had gone beyond Zumbo, in company with a trader of colour;
he soon after this left the Zambesi and, joining the expedition of the
Baron van der Decken, explored the snow mountain Kilimanjaro, north-west
of Zanzibar. Mr. Thornton's companion, the trader, brought back much
ivory, having found it both abundant and cheap. He was obliged, however,
to pay heavy fines to the Banyai and other tribes, in the country which
is coolly claimed in Europe as Portuguese. During this trip of six
mouths 200 pieces of cotton cloth of sixteen yards each, besides beads
and brass wire, were paid to the different chiefs, for leave to pass
through their country. In addition to these sufficiently weighty
exactions, the natives of _this dominion_ have got into the habit of
imposing fines for alleged milandos, or crimes, which the traders' men
may have unwittingly committed. The merchants, however, submit rather
than run the risk of fighting.
The general monotony of existence at Tette is sometimes relieved by an
occasional death or wedding. When the deceased is a person of
consequence, the quantity of gunpowder his slaves are allowed to expend
is enormous. The expense may, in proportion to their means, resemble
that incurred by foolishly gaudy funerals in England. When at Tette, we
always joined with sympathizing hearts in aiding, by our presence at the
last rites, to soothe the sorrows of the surviving relatives. We are
sure that they would have done the same to us had we been the mourners.
We never had to complain of want of hospitality. Indeed, the great
kindness shown by many of whom we have often spoken, will never be
effaced from our memory till our dying day. When we speak of their
failings it is in sorrow, not in anger. Their trading in slaves is an
enormous mistake. Their Government places them in a false position by
cutting them off from the rest of the world; and of this they always
speak with a bitterness which, were it heard, might alter the tone of the
statesmen of Lisbon. But here there is no press, no booksellers' shops,
and scarcely a schoolmaster. Had we been born in similar untoward
circumstances--we tremble to think of it!
The weddings are celebrated with as much jollity as weddings are
anywhere. We witnessed one in the house of our friend the Padre. It
being the marriage of his goddaughter, he kindly invited us to be
partakers in his joy; and we there became acquainted with old Donna
Engenia, who was a married wife and had children, when the slaves came
from Cassange, before any of us were born. The whole merry-making was
marked by good taste amid propriety.
About the only interesting object in the vicinity of Tette is the coal a
few miles to the north. There, in the feeders of the stream Revubue, it
crops out in cliff sections. The seams are from four to seven feet in
thickness; one measured was found to be twenty-five feet thick.
Learning that it would be difficult for our party to obtain food beyond
Kebrabasa before the new crop came in and knowing the difficulty of
hunting for so many men in the wet season, we decided on deferring our
departure for the interior until May, and in the mean time to run down
once more to the Kongone, in the hopes of receiving letters and
despatches from the man-of-war that was to call in March. We left Tette
on the 10th, and at Senna heard that our lost mail had been picked up on
the beach by natives, west of the Milambe; carried to Quillimane, sent
thence to Senna, and, passing us somewhere on the river, on to Tette. At
Shupanga the governor informed us that it was a very large mail; no great
comfort, seeing it was away up the river.
Mosquitoes were excessively troublesome at the harbour, and especially
when a light breeze blew from the north over the mangroves. We lived for
several weeks in small huts, built by our men. Those who did the hunting
for the party always got wet, and were attacked by fever, but generally
recovered in time to be out again before the meat was all consumed. No
ship appearing, we started off on the 15th of March, and stopped to wood
on the Luabo, near an encampment of hippopotamus hunters; our men heard
again, through them, of the canoe path from this place to Quillimane, but
they declined to point it out.
We found our friend Major Sicard at Mazaro with picks, shovels, hurdles,
and slaves, having come to build a fort and custom-house at the Kongone.
As we had no good reason to hide the harbour, but many for its being made
known, we supplied him with a chart of the tortuous branches, which,
running among the mangroves, perplex the search; and with such directions
as would enable him to find his way down to the river. He had brought
the relics of our fugitive mail, and it was a disappointment to find that
all had been lost, with the exception of a bundle of old newspapers, two
photographs, and three letters, which had been written before we left
England.
The distance from Mazaro, on the Zambesi side, to the Kwakwa at Nterra,
is about six miles, over a surprisingly rich dark soil. We passed the
night in the long shed, erected at Nterra, on the banks of this river,
for the use of travellers, who have often to wait several days for
canoes; we tried to sleep, but the mosquitoes and rats were so
troublesome as to render sleep impossible. The rats, or rather large
mice, closely resembling _Mus pumilio_ (Smith), of this region, are quite
facetious, and, having a great deal of fun in them, often laugh heartily.
Again and again they woke us up by scampering over our faces, and then
bursting into a loud laugh of He! he! he! at having performed the feat.
Their sense of the ludicrous appears to be exquisite; they screamed with
laughter at the attempts which disturbed and angry human nature made in
the dark to bring their ill-timed merriment to a close. Unlike their
prudent European cousins, which are said to leave a sinking ship, a party
of these took up their quarters in our leaky and sinking vessel. Quiet
and invisible by day, they emerged at night, and cut their funny pranks.
No sooner were we all asleep, than they made a sudden dash over the
lockers and across our faces for the cabin door, where all broke out into
a loud He! he! he! he! he! he! showing how keenly they enjoyed the joke.
They next went forward with as much delight, and scampered over the men.
Every night they went fore and aft, rousing with impartial feet every
sleeper, and laughing to scorn the aimless blows, growls, and deadly
rushes of outraged humanity. We observed elsewhere a species of large
mouse, nearly allied to _Euryotis unisulcatus_ (F. Cuvier), escaping up a
rough and not very upright wall, with six young ones firmly attached to
the perineum. They were old enough to be well covered with hair, and
some were not detached by a blow which disabled the dam. We could not
decide whether any involuntary muscles were brought into play in helping
the young to adhere. Their weight seemed to require a sort of cataleptic
state of the muscles of the jaw, to enable them to hold on.
Scorpions, centipedes, and poisonous spiders also were not unfrequently
brought into the ship with the wood, and occasionally found their way
into our beds; but in every instance we were fortunate enough to discover
and destroy them before they did any harm. Naval officers on this coast
report that, when scorpions and centipedes remain a few weeks after being
taken on board in a similar manner, their poison loses nearly all its
virulence; but this we did not verify. Snakes sometimes came in with the
wood, but oftener floated down the river to us, climbing on board with
ease by the chain-cable, and some poisonous ones were caught in the
cabin. A green snake lived with us several weeks, concealing himself
behind the casing of the deckhouse in the daytime. To be aroused in the
dark by five feet of cold green snake gliding over one's face is rather
unpleasant, however rapid the movement may be. Myriads of two varieties
of cockroaches infested the vessel; they not only ate round the roots of
our nails, but even devoured and defiled our food, flannels, and boots.
Vain were all our efforts to extirpate these destructive pests; if you
kill one, say the sailors, a hundred come down to his funeral! In the
work of Commodore Owen it is stated that cockroaches, pounded into a
paste, form a powerful carminative; this has not been confirmed, but when
monkeys are fed on them they are sure to become lean.
On coming to Senna, we found that the Zulus had arrived in force for
their annual tribute. These men are under good discipline, and never
steal from the people. The tax is claimed on the ground of conquest, the
Zulus having formerly completely overcome the Senna people, and chased
them on to the islands in the Zambesi. Fifty-four of the Portuguese were
slain on the occasion, and, notwithstanding the mud fort, the village has
never recovered its former power. Fever was now very prevalent, and most
of the Portuguese were down with it.
For a good view of the adjacent scenery, the hill, Baramuana, behind the
village, was ascended. A caution was given about the probability of an
attack of fever from a plant that grows near the summit. Dr. Kirk
discovered it to be the _Paedevia foetida_, which, when smelt, actually
does give headache and fever. It has a nasty fetor, as its name
indicates. This is one instance in which fever and a foul smell
coincide. In a number of instances offensive effluvia and fever seems to
have no connection. Owing to the abundant rains, the crops in the Senna
district were plentiful; this was fortunate, after the partial failure of
the past two years. It was the 25th of April, 1860, before we reached
Tette; here also the crops were luxuriant, and the people said that they
had not had such abundance since 1856, the year when Dr. Livingstone came
down the river. It is astonishing to any one who has seen the works for
irrigation in other countries, as at the Cape and in Egypt, that no
attempt has ever been made to lead out the water either of the Zambesi or
any of its tributaries; no machinery has ever been used to raise it even
from the stream, but droughts and starvations are endured, as if they
were inevitable dispensations of Providence, incapable of being
mitigated.
Feeling in honour bound to return with those who had been the faithful
companions of Dr. Livingstone, in 1856, and to whose guardianship and
services was due the accomplishment of a journey which all the Portuguese
at Tette had previously pronounced impossible, the requisite steps were
taken to convey them to their homes.
We laid the ship alongside of the island Kanyimbe, opposite Tette; and,
before starting for the country of the Makololo, obtained a small plot of
land, to form a garden for the two English sailors who were to remain in
charge during our absence. We furnished them with a supply of seeds, and
they set to work with such zeal, that they certainly merited success.
Their first attempt at African horticulture met with failure from a most
unexpected source; every seed was dug up and the inside of it eaten by
mice. "Yes," said an old native, next morning, on seeing the husks,
"that is what happens this month; for it is the mouse month, and the seed
should have been sown last mouth, when I sowed mine." The sailors,
however, sowed more next day; and, being determined to outwit the mice,
they this time covered the beds over with grass. The onions, with other
seeds of plants cultivated by the Portuguese, are usually planted in the
beginning of April, in order to have the advantage of the cold season;
the wheat a little later, for the same reason. If sown at the beginning
of the rainy season in November, it runs, as before remarked, entirely to
straw; but as the rains are nearly over in May, advantage is taken of low-
lying patches, which have been flooded by the river. A hole is made in
the mud with a hoe, a few seeds dropped in, and the earth shoved back
with the foot. If not favoured with certain misty showers, which, lower
down the river, are simply fogs, water is borne from the river to the
roots of the wheat in earthern pots; and in about four months the crop is
ready for the sickle. The wheat of Tette is exported, as the best grown
in the country; but a hollow spot at Maruru, close by Mazaro, yielded
very good crops, though just at the level of the sea, as a few inches
rise of tide shows.
A number of days were spent in busy preparation for our journey; the
cloth, beads, and brass wire, for the trip were sewn up in old canvas,
and each package had the bearer's name printed on it. The Makololo, who
had worked for the Expedition, were paid for their services, and every
one who had come down with the Doctor from the interior received a
present of cloth and ornaments, in order to protect them from the greater
cold of their own country, and to show that they had not come in vain.
Though called Makololo by courtesy, as they were proud of the name,
Kanyata, the principal headman, was the only real Makololo of the party;
and he, in virtue of his birth, had succeeded to the chief place on the
death of Sekwebu. The others belonged to the conquered tribes of the
Batoka, Bashubia, Ba-Selea, and Barotse. Some of these men had only
added to their own vices those of the Tette slaves; others, by toiling
during the first two years in navigating canoes, and hunting elephants,
had often managed to save a little, to take back to their own country,
but had to part with it all for food to support the rest in times of
hunger, and, latterly, had fallen into the improvident habits of slaves,
and spent their surplus earnings in beer and agua ardiente.
Everything being ready on the 15th of May, we started at 2 p.m. from the
village where the Makololo had dwelt. A number of the men did not leave
with the goodwill which their talk for months before had led us to
anticipate; but some proceeded upon being told that they were not
compelled to go unless they liked, though others altogether declined
moving. Many had taken up with slave-women, whom they assisted in
hoeing, and in consuming the produce of their gardens. Some fourteen
children had been born to them; and in consequence of now having no chief
to order them, or to claim their services, they thought that they were
about as well off as they had been in their own country. They knew and
regretted that they could call neither wives nor children their own; the
slave-owners claimed the whole; but their natural affections had been so
enchained, that they clave to the domestic ties. By a law of Portugal
the baptized children of slave women are all free; by the custom of the
Zambesi that law is void. When it is referred to, the officers laugh and
say, "These Lisbon-born laws are very stringent, but somehow, possibly
from the heat of the climate, here they lose all their force." Only one
woman joined our party--the wife of a Batoka man: she had been given to
him, in consideration of his skilful dancing, by the chief, Chisaka. A
merchant sent three of his men along with us, with a present for
Sekeletu, and Major Sicard also lent us three more to assist us on our
return, and two Portuguese gentleman kindly gave us the loan of a couple
of donkeys. We slept four miles above Tette, and hearing that the
Banyai, who levy heavy fines on the Portuguese traders, lived chiefly on
the right bank, we crossed over to the left, as we could not fully trust
our men. If the Banyai had come in a threatening manner, our followers
might, perhaps, from having homes behind them, have even put down their
bundles and run. Indeed, two of them at this point made up their minds
to go no further, and turned back to Tette. Another, Monga, a Batoka,
was much perplexed, and could not make out what course to pursue, as he
had, three years previously, wounded Kanyata, the headman, with a spear.
This is a capital offence among the Makololo, and he was afraid of being
put to death for it on his return. He tried, in vain, to console himself
with the facts that he had neither father, mother, sisters, nor brothers
to mourn for him, and that he could die but once. He was good, and would
go up to the stars to Yesu, and therefore did not care for death. In
spite, however, of these reflections, he was much cast down, until
Kanyata assured him that he would never mention his misdeed to the chief;
indeed, he had never even mentioned it to the Doctor, which he would
assuredly have done had it lain heavy on his heart. We were right glad
of Monga's company, for he was a merry good-tempered fellow, and his
lithe manly figure had always been in the front in danger; and, from
being left-handed, had been easily recognized in the fight with
elephants.
We commenced, for a certain number of days, with short marches, walking
gently until broken in to travel. This is of so much importance, that it
occurs to us that more might be made out of soldiers if the first few
days' marches were easy, and gradually increased in length and quickness.
The nights were cold, with heavy dews and occasional showers, and we had
several cases of fever. Some of the men deserted every night, and we
fully expected that all who had children would prefer to return to Tette,
for little ones are well known to prove the strongest ties, even to
slaves. It was useless informing them, that if they wanted to return
they had only to come and tell us so; we should not be angry with them
for preferring Tette to their own country. Contact with slaves had
destroyed their sense of honour; they would not go in daylight, but
decamped in the night, only in one instance, however, taking our goods,
though, in two more, they carried off their comrades' property. By the
time we had got well into the Kebrabasa hills thirty men, nearly a third
of the party, had turned back, and it became evident that, if many more
left us, Sekeletu's goods could not be carried up. At last, when the
refuse had fallen away, no more desertions took place.
Stopping one afternoon at a Kebrabasa village, a man, who pretended to be
able to change himself into a lion, came to salute us. Smelling the
gunpowder from a gun which had been discharged, he went on one side to
get out of the wind of the piece, trembling in a most artistic manner,
but quite overacting his part. The Makololo explained to us that he was
a Pondoro, or a man who can change his form at will, and added that he
trembles when he smells gunpowder. "Do you not see how he is trembling
now?" We told them to ask him to change himself at once into a lion, and
we would give him a cloth for the performance. "Oh no," replied they;
"if we tell him so, he may change himself and come when we are asleep and
kill us." Having similar superstitions at home, they readily became as
firm believers in the Pondoro as the natives of the village. We were
told that he assumes the form of a lion and remains in the woods for
days, and is sometimes absent for a whole month. His considerate wife
had built him a hut or den, in which she places food and beer for her
transformed lord, whose metamorphosis does not impair his human appetite.
No one ever enters this hut except the Pondoro and his wife, and no
stranger is allowed even to rest his gun against the baobab-tree beside
it: the Mfumo, or petty chief, of another small village wished to fine
our men for placing their muskets against an old tumble-down hut, it
being that of the Pondoro. At times the Pondoro employs his acquired
powers in hunting for the benefit of the village; and after an absence of
a day or two, his wife smells the lion, takes a certain medicine, places
it in the forest, and there quickly leaves it, lest the lion should kill
even her. This medicine enables the Pondoro to change himself back into
a man, return to the village, and say, "Go and get the game that I have
killed for you." Advantage is of course taken of what a lion has done,
and they go and bring home the buffalo or antelope killed when he was a
lion, or rather found when he was patiently pursuing his course of
deception in the forest. We saw the Pondoro of another village dressed
in a fantastic style, with numerous charms hung round him, and followed
by a troop of boys who were honouring him with rounds of shrill cheering.
It is believed also that the souls of departed chiefs enter into lions,
and render them sacred. On one occasion, when we had shot a buffalo in
the path beyond the Kafue, a hungry lion, attracted probably by the smell
of the meat, came close to our camp, and roused up all hands by his
roaring. Tuba Mokoro, imbued with the popular belief that the beast was
a chief in disguise, scolded him roundly during his brief intervals of
silence. "You a chief, eh? You call yourself a chief, do you? What
kind of chief are you to come sneaking about in the dark, trying to steal
our buffalo meat! Are you not ashamed of yourself? A pretty chief
truly; you are like the scavenger beetle, and think of yourself only. You
have not the heart of a chief; why don't you kill your own beef? You
must have a stone in your chest, and no heart at all, indeed!" Tuba
Mokoro producing no impression on the transformed chief, one of the men,
the most sedate of the party, who seldom spoke, took up the matter, and
tried the lion in another strain. In his slow quiet way he expostulated
with him on the impropriety of such conduct to strangers, who had never
injured him. "We were travelling peaceably through the country back to
our own chief. We never killed people, nor stole anything. The buffalo
meat was ours, not his, and it did not become a great chief like him to
be prowling round in the dark, trying, like a hyena, to steal the meat of
strangers. He might go and hunt for himself, as there was plenty of game
in the forest." The Pondoro, being deaf to reason, and only roaring the
louder, the men became angry, and threatened to send a ball through him
if he did not go away. They snatched up their guns to shoot him, but he
prudently kept in the dark, outside the luminous circle made by our camp
fires, and there they did not like to venture. A little strychnine was
put into a piece of meat, and thrown to him, when he soon departed, and
we heard no more of the majestic sneaker.
The Kebrabasa people were now plumper and in better condition than on our
former visits; the harvest had been abundant; they had plenty to eat and
drink, and they were enjoying life as much as ever they could. At
Defwe's village, near where the ship lay on her first ascent, we found
two Mfumos or headmen, the son and son-in-law of the former chief. A
sister's son has much more chance of succeeding to a chieftainship than
the chief's own offspring, it being unquestionable that the sister's
child has the family blood. The men are all marked across the nose and
up the middle of the forehead with short horizontal bars or cicatrices;
and a single brass earring of two or three inches diameter, like the
ancient Egyptian, is worn by the men. Some wear the hair long like the
ancient Assyrians and Egyptians, and a few have eyes with the downward
and inward slant of the Chinese.
After fording the rapid Luia, we left our former path on the banks of the
Zambesi, and struck off in a N.W. direction behind one of the hill
ranges, the eastern end of which is called Mongwa, the name of an acacia,
having a peculiarly strong fetor, found on it. Our route wound up a
valley along a small mountain-stream which was nearly dry, and then
crossed the rocky spurs of some of the lofty hills. The country was all
very dry at the time, and no water was found except in an occasional
spring and a few wells dug in the beds of watercourses. The people were
poor, and always anxious to convince travellers of the fact. The men,
unlike those on the plains, spend a good deal of their time in hunting;
this may be because they have but little ground on the hill-sides
suitable for gardens, and but little certainty of reaping what may be
sown in the valleys. No women came forward in the hamlet, east of
Chiperiziwa, where we halted for the night. Two shots had been fired at
guinea-fowl a little way off in the valley; the women fled into the
woods, and the men came to know if war was meant, and a few of the old
folks only returned after hearing that we were for peace. The headman,
Kambira, apologized for not having a present ready, and afterwards
brought us some meal, a roasted coney (_Hyrax capensis_), and a pot of
beer; he wished to be thought poor. The beer had come to him from a
distance; he had none of his own. Like the Manganja, these people salute
by clapping their hands. When a man comes to a place where others are
seated, before sitting down he claps his hands to each in succession, and
they do the same to him. If he has anything to tell, both speaker and
hearer clap their hands at the close of every paragraph, and then again
vigorously at the end of the speech. The guide, whom the headman gave
us, thus saluted each of his comrades before he started off with us.
There is so little difference in the language, that all the tribes of
this region are virtually of one family.
We proceeded still in the same direction, and passed only two small
hamlets during the day. Except the noise our men made on the march,
everything was still around us: few birds were seen. The appearance of a
whydahbird showed that he had not yet parted with his fine long plumes.
We passed immense quantities of ebony and lignum-vitae, and the tree from
whose smooth and bitter bark granaries are made for corn. The country
generally is clothed with a forest of ordinary-sized trees. We slept in
the little village near Sindabwe, where our men contrived to purchase
plenty of beer, and were uncommonly boisterous all the evening. We
breakfasted next morning under green wild date-palms, beside the fine
flowery stream, which runs through the charming valley of Zibah. We now
had Mount Chiperiziwa between us, and part of the river near Morumbwa,
having in fact come north about in order to avoid the difficulties of our
former path. The last of the deserters, a reputed thief, took French
leave of us here. He left the bundle of cloth he was carrying in the
path a hundred yards in front of where we halted, but made off with the
musket and most of the brass rings and beads of his comrade Shirimba, who
had unsuspectingly intrusted them to his care.
Proceeding S.W. up this lovely valley, in about an hour's time we reached
Sandia's village. The chief was said to be absent hunting, and they did
not know when he would return. This is such a common answer to the
inquiry after a headman, that one is inclined to think that it only means
that they wish to know the stranger's object before exposing their
superior to danger. As some of our men were ill, a halt was made here.
As we were unable to march next morning, six of our young men, anxious to
try their muskets, went off to hunt elephants. For several hours they
saw nothing, and some of them, getting tired, proposed to go to a village
and buy food. "No!" said Mantlanyane, "we came to hunt, so let us go
on." In a short time they fell in with a herd of cow elephants and
calves. As soon as the first cow caught sight of the hunters on the
rocks above her, she, with true motherly instinct, placed her young one
between her fore-legs for protection. The men were for scattering, and
firing into the herd indiscriminately. "That won't do," cried
Mantlanyane, "let us all fire at this one." The poor beast received a
volley, and ran down into the plain, where another shot killed her; the
young one escaped with the herd. The men were wild with excitement, and
danced round the fallen queen of the forest, with loud shouts and
exultant songs. They returned, bearing as trophies the tail and part of
the trunk, and marched into camp as erect as soldiers, and evidently
feeling that their stature had increased considerably since the morning.
Sandia's wife was duly informed of their success, as here a law decrees
that half the elephant belongs to the chief on whose ground it has been
killed. The Portuguese traders always submit to this tax, and, were it
of native origin, it could hardly be considered unjust. A chief must
have some source of revenue; and, as many chiefs can raise none except
from ivory or slaves, this tax is more free from objections than any
other that a black Chancellor of the Exchequer could devise. It seems,
however, to have originated with the Portuguese themselves, and then to
have spread among the adjacent tribes. The Governors look sharply after
any elephant that may be slain on the Crown lands, and demand one of the
tusks from their vassals. We did not find the law in operation in any
tribe beyond the range of Portuguese traders, or further than the sphere
of travel of those Arabs who imitated Portuguese customs in trade. At
the Kafue in 1855 the chiefs bought the meat we killed, and demanded
nothing as their due; and so it was up the Shire during our visits. The
slaves of the Portuguese, who are sent by their masters to shoot
elephants, probably connive at the extension of this law, for they strive
to get the good will of the chiefs to whose country they come, by
advising them to make a demand of half of each elephant killed, and for
this advice they are well paid in beer. When we found that the
Portuguese argued in favour of this law, we told the natives that they
might exact tusks from _them_, but that the English, being different,
preferred the pure native custom. It was this which made Sandia, as
afterwards mentioned, hesitate; but we did not care to insist on
exemption in our favour, where the prevalence of the custom might have
been held to justify the exaction.
The cutting up of an elephant is quite a unique spectacle. The men stand
remind the animal in dead silence, while the chief of the travelling
party declares that, according to ancient law, the head and right hind-
leg belong to him who killed the beast, that is, to him who inflicted the
first wound; the left leg to bins who delivered the second, or first
touched the animal after it fell. The meat around the eye to the
English, or chief of the travellers, and different parts to the headmen
of the different fires, or groups, of which the camp is composed; not
forgetting to enjoin the preservation of the fat and bowels for a second
distribution. This oration finished, the natives soon become excited,
and scream wildly as they cut away at the carcass with a score of spears,
whose long handles quiver in the air above their heads. Their excitement
becomes momentarily more and more intense, and reaches the culminating
point when, as denoted by a roar of gas, the huge mass is laid fairly
open. Some jump inside, and roll about there in their eagerness to seize
the precious fat, while others run off, screaming, with pieces of the
bloody meat, throw it on the grass, and run back for more: all keep
talking and shouting at the utmost pitch of their voices. Sometimes two
or three, regardless of all laws, seize the same piece of meat, and have
a brief fight of words over it. Occasionally an agonized yell bursts
forth, and a native emerges out of the moving mass of dead elephant and
wriggling humanity, with his hand badly cut by the spear of his excited
friend and neighbour: this requires a rag and some soothing words to
prevent bad blood. In an incredibly short time tons of meat are cut up,
and placed in separate heaps around.
Sandia arrived soon after the beast was divided: he is an elderly man,
and wears a wig made of "ife" fibre (_sanseviera_) dyed black, and of a
fine glossy appearance. This plant is allied to the aloes, and its thick
fleshy leaves, in shape somewhat like our sedges, when bruised yield much
fine strong fibre, which is made into ropes, nets, and wigs. It takes
dyes readily, and the fibre might form a good article of commerce. "Ife"
wigs, as we afterwards saw, are not uncommon in this country, though
perhaps not so common as hair wigs at home. Sandia's mosamela, or small
carved wooden pillow, exactly resembling the ancient Egyptian one, was
hung from the back of his neck; this pillow and a sleeping mat are
usually carried by natives when on hunting excursions.
We had the elephant's fore-foot cooked for ourselves, in native fashion.
A large hole was dug in the ground, in which a fire was made; and, when
the inside was thoroughly heated, the entire foot was placed in it, and
covered over with the hot ashes and soil; another fire was made above the
whole, and kept burning all night. We had the foot thus cooked for
breakfast next morning, and found it delicious. It is a whitish mass,
slightly gelatinous, and sweet, like marrow. A long march, to prevent
biliousness, is a wise precaution after a meal of elephant's foot.
Elephant's trunk and tongue are also good, and, after long simmering,
much resemble the hump of a buffalo and the tongue of an ox; but all the
other meat is tough, and, from its peculiar flavour, only to be eaten by
a hungry man. The quantities of meat our men devour is quite astounding.
They boil as much as their pots will hold, and eat till it becomes
physically impossible for them to stow away any more. An uproarious
dance follows, accompanied with stentorian song; and as soon as they have
shaken their first course down, and washed off the sweat and dust of the
after performance, they go to work to roast more: a short snatch of sleep
succeeds, and they are up and at it again; all night long it is boil and
eat, roast and devour, with a few brief interludes of sleep. Like other
carnivora, these men can endure hunger for a much longer period than the
mere porridge-eating tribes. Our men can cook meat as well as any
reasonable traveller could desire; and, boiled in earthen pots, like
Indian chatties, it tastes much better than when cooked in iron ones.